Christmas Eve, 2014
The ghosts of Christmas past are present.
I can’t escape them on this special night.
They come, slipping through the fog of memory.
Sitting here on Christmas Eve,
They crowd into the consciousness,
Each begging for attention.
I sit, listening to the music that calls them forth,
And remember why they were important,
And why I miss them on this night.
The years, and Christmases past now are one.
It matters not they are just memories.
What matters is why they were important.
Tonight, as I entertain the ghosts of Christmas past,
I remember them all, but one has a stronger pull than others.
She is the reason I believe, and do miss her still.
She is the one ghost that I welcome into my life,
And hope she never stops slipping through the fog
On a cold, Christmas Eve night.